A doctor came into Julia's room and the first thing out of her mouth was, "When do I get to go home?"
"Mrs. Summers, you do realize you have to be evaluated by your primary doctor," the doctor stammered. Everything he'd ever heard about Julia Terranova-Summers was true. She was a feisty woman who always got her way.
"When will he be here?" asked Julia. She hated being cooped up in this damn hospital far from home. And she really hated being cuffed to the bed.
"Tomorrow morning," the young physician said.
"That's not good enough," said Julia; "I have a wedding to go to next week. My daughter's preparing to go to college, and I have three other children who need me."
"Mrs. Summers, I can't do anything but call your doctor," he said; "Even then, he won't make a special trip down here to see you. You're probably going to be here a bit."
"Lovely," said Julia sarcastically; "Could someone please remove this damn cuff from my wrist if I'm not going anywhere?"
"I don't have a key. Base police have that."
"You're no help," Julia said; "Find someone who can help me, for God's sakes!"
The doctor scurried from the room as if he'd been smacked upside the head. Julia lay back on the pillows and sighed audibly.
She struggled to come up with any kind of memory of the previous three weeks, and wasn't having any luck.
"Well, dammit, I hate having this big hole in my memory!" she said aloud to the empty room. "I may not be able to remember what I had for lunch six months ago, but to not remember anything about the last three weeks? Not even a little hint of what happened, really bothers me."
She ran her hand over her scalp, with its three week growth of hair, and thought, and I really hate not having any hair!
"What the fuck is 'lacunar amnesia'?" asked Nik.
"According to Jasmine," Jeremiah said, "it's an empty pit in the memory. It can be caused by a number of different things; a bump on the head, a car accident, overload of emotions such as grief and revenge. Physical or sexual assault is right on up on the list as well."
"Grief and revenge sound like what set it off in Julia," Nik said. "She's not going to remember anything at all about the last month of her life?"
"Possibly," Jeremiah replied.
"When we travel to Washington for Natasha's wedding next week, we'll need to go see her," Nik said. "I'm sure she's not liking the being cooped up in the hospital at all. And Darren tells me that she had to be sedated and restrained in order to get her from Virginia to Walter Reed."
"Put up a fight, did she?" asked Jeremiah, laughing; "Why doesn't THAT surprise me?"
"Because it's Julia, that's why," said Nik.
But Nik was worried about his sister... both of them, actually. Julia's behavior was just not like her. Leaving her family to chase who she thought was responsible for Jack's death? Nik figured that if Julia was going to have a break with reality, no matter how brief, it would have been when Peter and Kiera were murdered when she was twelve. She actually witnessed that, Nik thought.
As for Natasha, Nik just worried about her in general. She had been really nervous about her upcoming wedding, and Nik knew that Natasha just didn't get nervous about anything for no good reason. Maybe it's just pre wedding jitters, he thought; Lord knows both KateLynn and I both went through that, and we were really young when we got married! But Natasha was 45 years old and getting married for the first and, Nik hoped, only time.
If Natasha and Darren had to plan and coordinate everything themselves, Nik thought, then she could be worried, but Sandy and Danica had all that taken care of.
"Hey, bro, you still with me here?" Jeremiah said, interrupting Nik's thoughts.
"Oh, sorry," Nik said; "Had my mind on other things."
"Natasha's wedding? Piece of cake. Wear your fancy ass uniform, give the bride to her new husband and be happy she found someone who adores her. You aren't worried about her, are you?" Jeremiah said.
Um yeah, Nik thought.
Vixen stood by as she watched her mother try on her wedding gown. It wasn't often she saw her mother nervous, but all this wedding jazz was certainly doing that.
"Help with the zipper, Vixen..." Natasha said. Once the dress was zipped up, she looked in the mirror. Is that really me? Natasha asked herself; most little girls dream of their wedding day. I never got that opportunity until after Darren proposed.
"I like the way the dress fits you, Mom," Vixen said; "You have the body to pull off that dress. I'm just a gangly mess."
"Viktoria, you'll be just fine," Natasha said. "You're only 13, and everything will even itself out as you get older. You're going to have nice curves like I do, so don't let those silly girls at school give you shit because they think you're fat. You're just as you should be."
"I'm not worried about that," Vixen said; "I ignore those stupid girls who think they're all that. I know I am."
"Your confidence will take you far, Vixen, but don't get cocky," Natasha said; "Just be you."
"I am being me," Vixen said; "I can't be something or someone I'm not. I learned that from you."
"Then I think you're going to be okay," her mother said; "Now help me get this dress off. Not a word to your brother or Darren, understand?"
"Gotcha!" Vixen said. "It's just between us girls."
"At least between us, Vixen," Natasha said; "Sandy and Danica are a little too busy with the reception and the flowers and the church. It's nice that I'm able to have a grown up conversation with you. You're growing up so fast. Soon you'll be wearing this dress."
"Mom, why don't we just enjoy me being a 13 year old high school freshman, okay?"
"Fine with me!" Natasha said, placing the dress back into the box it was delivered in. I can't wait to get married! she thought.
II
Christine spent her two days off with Jacob. He was unlike any other man she'd ever met. He actually paid attention to her and did things to please her, not because he wanted to get off and have it over with. His wife was a lucky woman, she thought; he loved her completely.
On the other hand, Christine Travis didn't think she could live up to the high expectations that Jacob undoubtedly had. She needn't have worried, but she did anyway. Men always found a reason to leave her, she thought.
All she had was her job at the hospital and her Army career. She rented her house, lived alone with two cats, and could literally up and walk away from it all within a months' time. Christine had learned to run well, and it was usually when someone from her previous life as Bethanie Crowley was catching up to her.
She saw that old life as another person. Someone who lived a privileged life because of her mother's career as a journalist. She, her sisters and brothers lacked for nothing. All of her full siblings found jobs they enjoyed, had happy marriages with happy children, and truly enjoyed life.
Christine was the family fuck up. Or at least, that's how Christine saw herself. Couldn't get marriage right, couldn't get pregnancy right, couldn't get life right. When her ex husband and his ex New Army pals started harrassing her, Christine did the only thing she could think of.
She ran.
She ran all the way to a remote town in North Carolina where a former high school boyfriend lived. He'd offered her a safe haven when she needed it. He helped her change her identity, gave her enough money to get as far from her former husband as she could. Once she had her name change documents, a new passport, and a car, Christine ran again, thanking her friend for all his help. He had offered to go with her, but she told him that this was her battle, and she didn't want to drag him into the cesspool that her life had become.
What Christine didn't know, and would only find out later through Jacob, is that her friend and savior had killed her former husband and three of his friends when they came to his home looking for Christine. He had fought for the Disturbed Ones as a member of the Ghost Squad, and had been trained well by Morbus.
The name Todd Travis would be well known to Jacob. He would find out Christine's secret.
And he would let her go if that's what she wanted.
Christine would be unsure of what she really wanted.
As Christine lay awake, staring at the ceiling, all kinds of thoughts went through her head. Most of them were about her feelings for Jacob; some were about a conflict she knew she had to expect at some point. Then,
"Christine, what are you thinking about, precious?" asked Jacob.
"Just stuff," she said. "I have a lot of things going on in my head."
"Like, what has been going on between us the last couple of days?"
"Partly, yes," Christine said. "And partly because of my past."
Jacob took Christine into his arms and held her. "I know that you have a lot of doubts about things, Christine," he said; "Let me ease those burdens for you."
"I do need to get home and get to work eventually," Christine said; "That uniform ain't gonna get here on its own, you know."
Jacob laughed and allowed Christine to get up out of the bed to get dressed. "I know you have important work to do," he said; "I shouldn't get in the way of any of that."
Christine turned around to look at Jacob. He was still well built for a man of 61, and despite the numerous scars from stabbings and bullets, his chest was solid. She wanted to stay, but her service to the United States required her to leave.
While she was in the shower, she thought about everything they had talked about over the last two days. She had nearly bared her soul to him, except for one thing.
In order to make her name change legitimate, she married her old high school boyfriend. It was his surname she now carried. She had no idea if the marriage was still valid, as she and Todd agreed that if he hadn't heard from her in a year, to have the marriage annulled.
It had been ten years.
Still she knew she couldn't assume anything. She'd have to look into that some time soon, especially if this thing with Jacob got serious.
Jacob would beat her to it.
The trying on of nice dresses to wear to Natasha's wedding was getting on Rachel Summers' last nerve.
Her sisters got nice grown up dresses, and she was stuck with the little girl dresses. She hated all of them.
"Nonna," she said to Jordan, "why can't I have a grown up like dress like Miri and Jaime? All these little girl dresses look stupid on me."
"I don't think they make those dresses in your size, Rachel," Jordan said; "You're growing up, but you're always going to be a small, petite girl."
"Can we check?" asked Rachel. "I know there are grown ups who are little like I am. They don't buy their dresses in the little girls department."
"Sure, we can check," Jordan said; "Let's go find someone to help us, okay?"
Meanwhile, David was with Zach, who was trying on suits.
"I'm going to die in this thing, Granpa David," the eleven year old said; "This tie is ridiculous!"
David had to agree with the boy. They'd already had trouble because Zach was tall for his age and none of the slacks were long enough. Then the jackets posed another problem. Now the tie. The only things that fit properly was the dress shirt and the vest.
"Maybe if we can just find a pair of slacks that fit you length-wise, then you won't need a jacket," David said; "It's hot in Washington in July."
"I don't like the ties, either," Zach said.
"I'm not going to wear one," David said; "The last time I did was when your grandmother and I got married. If your grandmother is agreeable, then we can forego the tie."
"I wish Mom was here," Zach said; "Why are they keeping her in the hospital for so long?"
"She's had some health issues come up, and they thought it was best that she have those attended to," David said, hoping that Zach believed the lie. The real reason David still had trouble comprehending: that Julia's mind snapped temporarily. Julia was the most stable person, besides Jordan, that he knew. It seemed inconceivable that Julia could have those kind of problems.
"Oh," Zach said now; "But she'll be home soon, right?"
"She should be, yes," said David; "not in time for Aunt Natasha's wedding, but probably shortly after that. Uncle Nik probably knows more than I do."
"Nonna told us not to bug Uncle Nik about it," Zach said; "That he's just as worried about Mom as everyone else."
"True, true," David said in agreement; "That and walking his sister down the aisle to give her away to her new husband."
"Did Nonna's brother walk her down the aisle when you got married?" asked Zach.
"No, Zachary, none of her family was there," David said; "It was just me, Nonna, and a judge."
"You didn't have a wedding?" Zach said, surprised.
"Not like Natasha and Darren's wedding, no," David said; "That's how we wanted it. Just us and the judge who married us."
"I'd like a wedding like Aunt Natasha's, though," Zach said; "I'd want my whole family there."
"At least your mother won't have to foot the bill for it," David said; "the bride's family takes care of that."
Zach thought about it and said, "Mom's in big trouble, then. I have three sisters!"
David laughed; "This is true!"
III
Jordan and Rachel finally found a dress that Rachel liked. It was "grown up" enough to suit her. It was in the young teen department. Jordan discovered that Rachel wore a double zero, and even that was a little large on her.
Much to her horror, Rachel had started menstruating about three months before, and it seemed that shortly after that, she needed a training bra. "But she's not even nine yet!" Rachel remembered her mother telling Aunt Jasmine.
"It happens sometimes," Aunt Jasmine said; "And she has two older sisters, so maybe their cycles are similar. Rachel hasn't really had a true cycle, Jules, so calm down!"
"She's a little girl, Jas!" Julia had said.
"She's growing up, Julia," Jasmine said. "I know she's your baby and you worried about her the most after she arrived earlier than expected, but she's in line with the younger end of the scale. The earliest age that girls start their cycles is around nine years of age. Rachel will be nine at the end of July. I hope you did talk to her about it before it began."
"Of course I did, Jas!" Julia said; "But she kinda already knew about it from her sisters."
"Then quit worrying about it, will you?"
"I like this dress, Nonna," Rachel said; "I don't look like a little girl in it. You can keep all that cutesy stuff. I'm not four." And she twirled around in it in front of the three way mirror.
Jordan just looked at Rachel. Just like her mother, she sighed.
A psychologist came in to see Julia every other day or so, and was expected to talk about what made her leave her family and chase someone half way across the country. It reminded Julia too much of the sessions she had with Dr. Corwin when she was a preteen. At least Dr. Corwin was a nice, compassionate person. Julia couldn't say much about the jerk they sent in to speak with her.
"Mrs. Summers," the psychologist said, "we can't release you unless you can remember what happened during the three weeks you say you can't remember."
"If I could remember it," Julia said angrily, "I wouldn't be in this situation, now would I?"
"You don't need to be hostile, Mrs. Summers," the doctor said.
"And you don't need to be a clueless ass, either," Julia shot back. "Did you sleep through the bedside manner lecture in med school?"
The psychologist just shook his head and wordlessly left the room.
"And don't come back!" Julia called after him. "Jesus, what a moron!"
At least she finally got someone to take the cuffs off, so if she wanted to get out of bed and sit by the window, as she prepared to do, she could.
Julia wanted to go home. Miri would be going up to Northwestern the following Friday for freshman orientation, and Julia wanted to be home by that time. She missed her kids, her pregnant sister (who freaked out at every twinge she felt, scared to death she would have a miscarriage like Niki did), and wonder who was taking care of the kids in her absence.
"God, I hope it's Mom and David," she sighed aloud. "I'm going to get a royal reaming when I get home."
That is, if I ever get to leave this place and they don't lock me up and throw away the key, she thought.
IV
With their wedding only 48 hours away, and everything was more or less in place, Natasha and Darren went out for dinner. Darren always picked the restaurants that Natasha wouldn't dream of going to. Not that they were bad places, just impractical with two kids.
They were seated in a semi private area away from the main dining room. Natasha always wondered how Darren could pull that off. Maybe it's because of who he is, she thought.
"What are you thinking about, Tash?" Darren asked as they were seated.
"About how you have so much pull in places like this, mostly," Natasha said.
"Rank has its privileges, I guess," said Darren; "I certainly don't ask for special treatment. That's just not me. You know that."
Natasha sighed; "I know, darling, but sometimes it makes me a little uncomfortable."
"Why?" asked Darren.
"I don't feel I'm worthy of any of it," she said; "Sometimes, I still think like the teenage whore I once was."
"You are worthy of everything I can give you and the kids, Tash," Darren said. "I've waited years for you, my Queen. In two days, we'll be man and wife. You make me happy beyond words."
"I never dreamed I'd be this happy and content," Natasha said. "I've never felt this way with anyone else, Darren. I can't wait to be your wife!"
"Then let's elope, Natasha," Darren said in all seriousness. "We could be back here before the wedding and still have the extravaganza that Sandy and Danica have been working on for months. We can't deny them that."
"Darren!" Natasha exclaimed. It was as if he'd read her mind. He'd always been good at reading her, and now was no exception. As good as the suggestion was, Natasha knew in her heart she couldn't do it.
"You don't want to, do you, Tash?"
"Had you asked me a week ago, I'd be all for it," she said; "But two days before? You may have some pull, but not even you could get a justice of the peace on such short notice."
"You might be right about that, Tash," Darren conceded. "It was just a spur of the moment thing. I guess I'm a little nervous, too."
"I've been freaking out for weeks now," said Natasha. "Ask the kids. Ask Sandy and Danica. I've been a nervous wreck!"
"Let's get out of here," Darren said; "We'll go to the apartment in Langley, have a nice simple dinner, and make love. Your body is all I crave right now."
And with that, they left through the back door of the restaurant.
He was in paradise, but he wasn't enjoying it as much as he thought he would.
Every woman reminded him of the love he finally found, then abandoned her in a cheap motel outside of Chicago. His arms ached to hold his emerald-eyed beauty, make love to her, to tell her to her face that he loved her more than life itself.
Instead, Edward Marshall was holed up in an expensive hotel on Waikiki, craving the one thing that he needed the most.
And it wasn't smack.
It had been a few weeks since he last saw Nicoletta at Virginia Beach. He couldn't bring himself to talk to her, to explain why he ran from her; he felt he had to deny himself the pleasure of her presence.
But every dream since he first laid eyes on her six months before was about her; about them; about the life they could've had together.
Edward Marshall was in his own private hell; a hell that even all his money couldn't ease.
He'd left ARM in an unenviable position; they group was essentially broke. The new leader, a man by the name of Richard Pike, was trying to put the group back on an even footing. He had the funds for it, and used those funds to pay the assassins that Marshall's former identity left to sink with the ship.
Marshall knew Pike was a lawyer, and he was as twisted as they came. He was relatively young at 32, and Marshall thought maybe Pike could do for ARM that he could not: overcome Chastity's excesses.
Marshall really didn't care anymore. He wanted to be free of the guilt that running from Nicoletta had caused. He wanted her, needed her, felt he couldn't live without her. Life without her was hell.
He wasn't interested in the local hookers, and drugs didn't do it for him anymore. He waited for the day he conquered his guilt, and could stand before her, begging for her forgiveness.
He had no idea that he already had it. He had only to look into those green eyes and he'd know for sure.
But that was years down the line.
He'd stay in Hawaii, maybe buy a house there. Set up a business where he could make money and keep his grandfather's fortune for better things. He knew Nicoletta hadn't spent the money he gave her. Every month he checked the balance, and it still said the same amount: one million dollars and no cents.
Marshall walked out onto the balcony of his 18th floor room and looked out at the Pacific Ocean. Somewhere beyond that ocean was his green-eyed goddess. He hoped and prayed that she was waiting for him.
She was, but he didn't know it.
He still thought of the last time he made love to her, and her exquisite voice calling out his name.
Oh, God...Edward!
"Nicoletta..." he whispered to the wind, hoping that somehow, she'd hear him.
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